


Sex Therapy

by IslaNightOwl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Becho interaction but meaningless, Bellamy Blake/Gina Martin meaningfulness TBD by you, Bellarke Endgame Always!, Clexa interaction but meaningless, Doctor Clarke, F/F, F/M, I'll add more relevant tags later, Jealous Bellamy, Jealous Clarke, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Office Sex, Patient Belloma, Patient Flarke, Reyes interaction definitely meaningful, Selfish Finn, Sex Retreat, She's the worst I've been told, Therapist Bellamy, Therapist Clarke, potentially offensive therapeutic infidelity, sex therapy, though consented
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-07-23 05:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16152887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IslaNightOwl/pseuds/IslaNightOwl
Summary: For some reason, she has the most abhorrent luck in finding men. Women too, apparently, because no matter what she does or with whom she finds herself with, Clarke is left unsatisfied more often than not.So, again, she finds her self pondering what to do about her most recent excuse of a man-whore fiancé. Which is probably why she finds herself snapping out of yet another day dream of her alternate sex universe while in therapy.





	1. Daydreaming About You

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I have never in my life written smut this detailed. I've dabbled, but feel free to tell me your thoughts on the matter!!! It may suck? Borderline porn? Not sure, but I couldn't get the storyline out of my head so here you go...
> 
> BETA! MORNINGSTAR! She's become my favorite person! Seriously, I'm like, "hey, so i just started this fic like two hours ago when I was suppose to be studying...and she's like "sure!" :) So thank her, not me. Thanks for reading and enjoy!

“Earth to Clarke. Hello?” Finn’s more agitated than he probably should be, but considering this is like the third time this has happened, well - now he’s pissed.

“…Miss Griffin? Clarke, are you still with us...?” she licks her lips, staring off as she lets Dr. Blake’s voice drift her further away into her own reality….

 

* * *

 

 

  
“So, Mr. Blake. Ms. Martinelli. What seems to be the problem?” Clarke looks to them both, pushing her glasses higher toward her eyes.

With her legs crossed, so the slit exposes the bottom leg, one could easily make out the lacy number she’s donned under her stretchy gray pencil skirt with it reaching so high that any self-respecting woman would walk right out of her office, dragging her husband in tow by his tie. Regardless of the fantastic _services she provides._

She adjusts the notebook in her lap waiting for a response, and when she looks up at them again Bellamy’s eyes are on her exposed thigh from which he looks away unhurriedly, glances briefly in her direction then back to his fiancé seemingly unaffected or ashamed. Satisfied, if anything. _What a dick. No wonder they’re in therapy._

He doesn’t make her uncomfortable, no. Though, normally a man of his stature would exude intimidation what with his broad shoulders, perfectly wide jawline, sexy pectoralis majors peeking beneath his slightly unbuttoned dress shirt, that beautiful tan ski— _fuck, he keeps distracting me._ She doesn’t give him the satisfaction; however, she simply shifts her hips so that more weight is on the side opposite the split, exposing more skin to him. _The bastard wants to play, let’s play then._

In her periphery, her thin white garments are now clearly peeking out against her creamy toned thigh, and the asshole smirks looking nowhere in particular, so Clarke knows that it’s for her. _Unbelievable._ Sure, she has two PhDs and four different specialties with years of experience under her belt, but—he started it.

“Ms. Martinelli. Why don’t you start. What brings you two here for my help?”

“Yes dear, what brings us here?” He says in a very serious, yet patronizing tone. Both women focus their attention in his direction.

“Please, Dr. Griffin, call me Roma. And Bell, darling. Don’t. You know why we’re here.” Disbelieving of his current pretend-amnesia.

“No _sweetheart,_ ” he mocks. “I really don’t. One moment the sex is great, or least I thought it was,” turning on the charm for his fiancé. “And the next you have us scheduled with a stranger to openly discuss the sudden ‘problems’ in our sex life? This would be quite the blow to a man’s ego if I didn’t already know for sure that you more than enjoy the ways I please you.” He glanced knowingly her way, then to Clarke for tease.

“Bellamy, you know that’s not why we’re here.”

“Well then tell her already, you seem to have the answers that I don’t.”

“Roma?” Clarke urges.

“I’m not interesting enough to satisfy him the way I use to.” She says averting her insecure gaze to her lap. Clarke looks between the couple.

_Well, this just got interesting._

Bellamy lets out a heavy sigh turning towards Roma. “Babe, I already told you, and I’ll keep telling you. I’m happy.” He proclaims. “I love you, regardless of whatever it is you seem unhappy with or think that I’m unhappy with, I love all of you. Why are you having such a hard time grasping that?”

“Please Bellamy, I saw the way you looked at our therapist when we walked in.” Shaking her head matter-of-factly. Bellamy has the good sense to at least look embarrassed. Though he’s definitely not. “You and I are both aware of your interests, what you’re capable of. Your experience is far beyond what I can keep up with and I feel at a disadvantage lately. That’s why we’re here,” she faces Clarke, more sure of herself.

“Mr. Blake—”

“Just Bellamy.” He interrupts, glaring at her seductively. He can’t help it.

“Well, Bellamy. Are your girlfriend’s concerns valid?” A simple question to most client’s, but a taunt she’s hoping Bellamy will pick up on.

He does. And just like that, she has him.

It’s like a switch flips, and his innocent behavior from before is nowhere to be found. Bellamy’s gaze darkens sensually as his eyes bore into Clarke’s. She glares back unwilling to back down from his pettiness.

“No, I think we’re here more for my girlfriend’s insecurities than our sex life - which is fine by the way.” He says, finally breaking the stare-down with Clarke to meet Roma’s eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

“Clarke? Do you feel insecure sexually in your relationship with Finn?” he asks disbelieving.

“Ughhh. Oh my God, would you snap out of it! Finn shouts in frustration. Maybe a little too loudly.

“Keep your voice down.” Bellamy growls. Finn stills, a little startled by his show of authority. He squirms in his seat a little while Bellamy glares at him.

Focusing his efforts back on Clarke, “Are you with us Miss Griffin?”

“Yeah I’m here.” She offers a smile, clearing her thoughts.

“Where did you go just now?” Bellamy looks to her with concern.

“Uh, I’m just….uh, nowhere.” She blushes furiously. How the hell should she explain to her therapist that she’s daydreaming about him when she should be fixing her relationship? _This is why she prefers her fantasy over the real thing. She thinks as she drifts again…._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Then why can’t you come?” She turns to face him with one leg folded in front of her on the couch.

“I can come just fine, babe. You know that.”

“No Bellamy, you only come when I suck your dick.” She spits.

He and Clarke both look to her shocked by the bluntness. This is usually when Clarke intervenes to avoid a screaming match between couples.

“Okay, let’s take a few steps back and get to the bottom of this.” Adjusting her glasses for the hundredth time. “Roma? Do you trust Bellamy?”

“Of course, I do, I wouldn’t still be with him If I didn’t.” she assures. “I just wish that I didn’t have to try so hard to get him off the way he does for me.”

“Babe, it’s not a competition.” He assures her, though looking completely annoyed and over it.

“Hold on, Bellamy, let’s hear what Roma has to say regarding her concerns.”

“It feels like,” she began, hesitantly. “Whenever you ask for us to try something new or different, which is all the time, it’s because you’re bored with what we’ve been doing.” Bellamy runs a hand through his hair exasperated.

“Good, Roma. Very nice. Now, Bellamy? What’s your take on that? And why is it that you’re always seeking something new or different in your sex life?” Clarke prods. He shrugs nonchalant.

“I’d like to think I’m pretty adventurous. However, when the person you want to be adventurous with is easily bothered when you want to critique or adjust a particular sex position, you have to come up with new ways to find sex ‘equally pleasing’ to both parties.” He huffed using air quotes.

“Dr. Griffin,” Roma pauses, expecting her to correct her formalities, but albeit of Clarke to willingly hand over her dominance. Just because Ms. Martinelli is clearly a submissive by default, doesn’t mean she has to play the role.

“Yes, Roma?” Clarke looks up from writing the last line in her notes. Clarke’s big blue eyes bore into hers and when it’s clear that Clarke’s not going to offer her informal title, Roma continues with a frustrated huff. Then from there, shit gets real.

Bellamy notices the assertion immediately and is intrigued, she can see the desire play out over his features in the background of their staring contest as he looks down clearly amused with the exchange happening between the two women. Hell, if she backs away from this showdown to steal a satisfied peak at him.

She can tell that Roma notices her passive aggressive behavior as well. However subtle. Bellamy must’ve pulled this move on her before in one of his many ‘adventures’ she thinks. He’s obviously the dominant one. But you know what, who gives a shit, she’s worked too damn long, and too fucking hard to be called Clarke by her patients. And there may be some incessant need to dominate the both of them. Especially when Bellamy is so clearly fighting for the dominance in the room himself.

_Well not in my goddamn office._

I wonder if he’d submit his dominance to me?

_Shit!_

_Focus Clarke!_

“Well, were both sex addicts, we have a hard time connecting here and there because of it, but for the most part we scratch each other’s itch. Except, now, his itch is harder to scratch.” Bellamy snorts. Roma rolls her eyes at him while Clarke bites back a smirk when no one’s looking.

“I guess I’m just here for the experts’ opinion.” She all but spits, facing Clarke again. “Tips maybe? If you have any?” Said with just a little more disdain than the last comment. Roma narrows her eyes at Clarke awaiting her response. Clearly annoyed that Clarke is displaying such condescending behavior. Inner-Clarke perks up at that. _Interesting indeed._

“Actually, there’s a trust exercise I have in mind, if you’re both willing to participate? It’s pretty standard, but a bit extreme in your case, given the obvious trust issues.” She motions between the two of them with the hand holding her notebook. “Though, given the right amount of open-mindedness…” she trails. Looking to Bellamy now who hasn’t dared said a word in at least five minutes, too pleased with the silent cat fight happening in front of him.

She’s writing when she starts again, “Bellamy? How do you feel about participating in a sma—” Bellamy cuts her off before she can finish.

“Mr. Blake.” Clarke’s eyes shoot up to Bellamy’s face, then pointedly to his eyes as hers narrow like a dragon seething steam through its ears and nostrils. He’s trying really hard to contain the smirk threatening to take over, knowing full well the impact his show of authority has on her. And he’d done it just to wound her up. _Fucker._

It happens quickly enough to mask her reaction from Roma, who finally wipes the smirk off her face long enough to look up at Clarke again. Obviously pleased at Clarke’s humiliation, but totally naïve to the sexual tension caused by the power struggle between her therapist and fiancé.  
.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get that…?” she tries. Clarke smiles at him innocently. And suddenly the room is dangerously quiet.

“Oh, it’s just that you called me Bellamy. But it’s actually Mr. Blake.” Making his voice a little deeper than it was a minute ago, smiling his pearly whites. Knowing full well he’d allowed her this change. Roma looks between them with amusement slowly transforming into confusion, sure that she’s missing something.

Clarke takes a deep calming breath. _In through the nose, out through the mouth Clarke._

“My apologies, ‘Mr. Blake’.” Enunciating his name. She gives a fake one-sided smile and clears her throat to compose her own inner beast. “So? Is that a yes.”  
She’ll let him have this one. Once she’s done with him, they’ll both be screaming each other’s--

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So basically, the two of you would attend the retreat as a couple. Invite via me obviously.” Bellamy adjusts his position sitting forward as he explains. However, your status as a couple becomes nonexistent the moment you step foot on the grounds. Is that something you think you’d be able to handle?” He’s mostly addressing Clarke in her state of daydreaming, but he’s looking at Finn.

Bellamy is challenging him, hoping the pressure is enough to keep him from persuading Clarke away from the idea. Finn saying no would all but admit his own insecurities in his and Clarke’s relationship. It would also show how much weaker than Bellamy he is, and Finn knows this. Which is exactly why he agrees. Too afraid to seem worried about Clarke discovering something better than he can offer.

“Of course. I’m really just worried about Clarke,” he lies. “I’m not sure she’d be willing to try something so adventurous given the ‘consistent’ nature of our sex life.” he complains.

“ _Right_.” Bellamy speaks curtly with him now. I can go into further details once you agree on the basics, and sign the non-disclosure. Is that something you’d be interested in Clarke?

 _Fucking jerk._ It’s taking everything Bellamy has left to keep from punching this dick-face, but if he could just somehow get Clarke to agree to the retreat, then he could easily peel her away from Finn’s hold long enough to make her never want to go back.

“What exactly would I need to handle?” she finally responds.

“Think of it as a trust exercise. One in which both your emotional and sexual tolerance would be tested.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Trust exercise? Sure, sounds fun. How about you, babe?” Bellamy says to Roma.

“Sounds exciting.”

_Oh, just you wait._

Clarke stands and closes her notebook to drop it with a soft thud as it hits her desk. It’s when she began slipping off her Jimmy Choo’s that she explains the ‘activity.’

“So how this works, is the person with the least amount of trust test their strength in the other person. The point is to establish a baseline, and set hard limits from there. Once it’s clear that the other will respect those boundaries, the ‘trust-lacker,’ for a lack of a better description, will progress in tolerance. This opens the door later for a greater trust bubble.” She gestures extra with her hands.

This of it as a sort of ‘desensitizing.’ Roma, you will be the test subject, Mr. Blake here will be your symbol of strength and or tolerance, while I, will act as a prop testing both the subject and their strength. Which, again, in this case is you and Mr. Blake.”

“Okay…” she drawls. “I don’t think I’m following.” Roma says, looking confused as though she regrets her decision for this activity already, while Bellamy is contemplative, considering her words.

“Well first, Mr. Blake, why don’t you explain to Roma and me what it is about your typical everyday sex routine that you seek to change when the moment presents itself.” His eyebrows furrow so she continues, first shifting her weight to go in depth.

“What I mean is, give me an example of a time you two were having typical couple sex, nothing fancy, and you felt compelled to switch it up. Just an example is fine, or two.” He looks to Roma, eyebrows raised in question. She crosses her arms over her chest with a shrug okaying him to continue.

“Alright, well a few nights ago she was riding me, pretty wet, which is a plus. “ He says raking a hand through his curls. “Except, more slippage, less friction. So, I suggested a sitting position instead of me lying down. Deeper penetration. Counterbalance the loss of friction.” He shrugs nonchalantly. Clarke’s eyes are focused intently on him.

“All valid points, Mr. Blake. Nodding, she turns on her heels to Roma. “And how did you feel about that, Roma?”

“Well I’m a sex addict, so obviously I’ve tried that position before, but I told him that it’s just uncomfortable.” She says, almost shouting with her hand outstretched in Bellamy’s direction.

“You wouldn’t even try though. I told her that I knew why it was uncomfortable and that I could make it better and she wouldn’t even try!” Bellamy’s definitely shouting now.

“It’s awkward! And stupid!” Roma barks back, but before Bellamy can continue Clarke intervenes.

“She’s right.” She nods with renewed interest as Clarke turns back towards the couple. “You’re right Roma, but why not try.” She suggests, now in a more defensive stance to calm the tension.

“Because he’s not the freaking boss of me. And that little dominance crap he pulls with me makes me want to try even less!!! I mean he’s great in bed but he thinks he some sort of sex GOD!!!

_I fucking knew it._

“Well you trust me, don’t you? I’m the ‘expert after all’.” She tilts her head with a knowing smile. Without waiting for the go-ahead, she continues.

“Okay. So here we go. Mr. Blake. Show me.” her arms now spread wide and welcoming.

“I’m sorry what?” his excessive blinking causing Roma to roll her eyes.” He leans back with one arm stretching to rest against the back of the couch, with his other on the arm.  
Fuck he looks sexy sitting there all relaxed, legs spread wide ready for her to climb into his lap.

“Oh, you heard her, Jackass. She wants you to fuck her.” Roma said unimpressed.

Clarke’s shoulders slump as her head lulls down officially annoyed and frustrated with Roma's shenanigans.

“Clarke—” he tries. “Ms. Griffin.” he tries to shake the mistake knowing both women are picking up on his sudden nervousness.

“Tell me what you like. I’ll adjust, then translate to Roma, all the while, testing her resolve. Think of it as role play. You’ve done that, yes?” They both nod.

“Okay, so let’s begin,” Clarke walks over to her top drawer for a condom. Effectively leaving Roma’s mouth agape. “Now, I know we’ve all had our recent tests and birth control verified, but for the purpose of this scene, we need the condom. Yes?” They both nod.

“Great. Roma find a seat somewhere to that side of the room near my desk for the best vantage point. Bellamy, stay exactly where you are just scoot to your left about two feet,” she gestures with her hands so that he moves to the center of the couch.

Finally, Clarke takes a deep breath and looks at Bellamy head on and begins walking to him, releasing her white shirt from the confines of her skirt. She walks slowly, yet seductively towards Bellamy as she undoes the buttons on her shirt. The closer she gets the more he struggles to still his nerves with the smallest of adjustments made obvious.

“Tell me what you want Mr. Blake.” She says lowering her voice teasingly dragging her words in all the right places. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you. Better yet….tell me what you want and then just take it.” She says right before licking her lips leaving nothing but wetness behind. Bellamy’s entire face pales despite his creamy complexion.

When she’s close enough she hikes up her skirt on both sides and kneels on the couch, knees landing on either sides of his thighs. She leans forward, plants her hands on his shoulders for balance, and his large hands find her hips as his fingertips spread wide and firm on her ass. She combs through the top of her shiny blonde hair so it falls sexy to one side hanging over his face. She stops for a moment to check on Roma only to find her stark still near her desk, jaw still slack and eyes furious with jealousy that she’s the reason for this response in her fiancé.

Clarke nods for permission, Roma jus closes her jaw with a visible swallow.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Is that something you would enjoy Clarke? The retreat? The two of you wouldn’t be able to mingle sexually, but I could ensure that your sleeping quarters are at least on the same side of the property.” He looks to Finn who just shrugs. Bellamy wants to punch him.

“Sounds like fun to me.” He says with the stupidest grin on his face.

“Miss Griffin?”

“Okay then. Let’s do it.” she thinks she hears herself telling Dr. Blake.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Okay then” she confirms with Roma. Clarke takes that as her cue to begin grinding against his cock. She undoes the button and zipper on his slacks to reach her hand in to gently pull it out, immediately stroking him long and slow from the base. He growls.

She hums at how hard he’s getting for her. Its thick, long, tanned like the rest of him and absolutely throbbing. Clarke reaches over to grab the condom from the couch and once in place, she turns to Roma one last time.

“The exercise has officially begun. Once inside, there will be no breaking scene for any reason short of physical emergency and minor communication. Understood?” She looks between them both, they between themselves. And they nod. “Great. Now tell me how he likes it Roma. Quiet? Dirty talk, fast?

“Dirty talk.” She says immediately. “But slow,” Rolling her eyes at that, yet remaining tentative to the scene in front of her. “Torturously slow.” She licks her lips... Clarke nods her understanding grinding against him for friction through his pants simultaneously stroking his long hard on. Then, finally pays him attention.

“Bellamy, sweetheart? Is it ok for me to slide my pussy on your cock now, baby?” She widens her eyes and raise her brows for emphasis.

His mouth is dry but he manages a “Fuck yeah. Shit, Clarke.” he pants unashamedly.

“Tsk tsk,” she warns. “It’s Dr. Griffin.” He throws his head back in blissful agony. Clarke rises to her knees again hovering above his erection as she positions his dick right at her entrance.

“Hey babe?” Panting heavily now, she cups a hand to the side of his face, “I need you to slide my panties over just a little.” Grinding on his leg as she continues stroking him. She turns to look at Roma, making sure she’s still okay. Not really caring either way. And no doubt she’s in the exact same awe as before when Clarke first checked in on her. “Can you do that for me?” she says to him, but still looking at Roma.

Just as he was told, only slightly deviating from her instructions, Bellamy's dips his head to rest between her voluptuous tits unable to control his breathing otherwise. His hands stroke up the outer side of her covered thighs, scrunching her skirt up until he reaches her ass cheek stroking and massaging around its entirety until his hands reach the top of her glutes then slides back down the middle of both ass cheeks, quickly grazing a finger over its opening. At that she grabs his chin roughly to look up at her and cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Bad boy,” she bends down to bite his lip. Hard. Then sucks it into her mouth in long slow sucks. She spreads the beads of precum leaking out whenever she strokes log with a squeeze “What do you want baby?” she asks him again. His eyes flutter closed.

“I want to bury my fucking cock in you.” He says, finally snaking a hand through the slit in her skirt. He pulls her panties to one side holding them in place from the back with the other hand he has wrapped around her ass cheeks. He plays with her wetness for just long enough to get her squirming for him then plunges a finger in causing her to gasp, immediately followed by a second finger.

“Uhnn,” she drawls as his fingers fuck her at a slow, firm pace. He adds a third.

“Fuck babe you’re so tight for me, I don’t if you can take all of me.” He keeps a firm grasp on her ass, adding pressure to her clit as he shoves his fingers in and out of her pussy at a faster rate now. He bites down on her shoulder taking her bra strap with his teeth to expose a tight pink nipple. He flicks at it with his tongue making it impossibly harder.

“See Roma, it doesn’t take much to switch it up without making it awkward.” she says pushing her chest into his face to take more of her nipple into his mouth. “Especially if you were up for it. Right, Bellamy? She looks down at him, chest heaving out of control with her boobs nearly blocking her view to his face. Bellamy looks up and over to Roma, with his teeth clenched around Clarke’s nipple, letting go only to respond. Missing the contact, Clarke leans in to let her nipple brush against the side of his face as he speaks.

“Right, babe,” he smiles lazily and sated, both women are unsure of who the nickname was meant for. Quickly after, he’s biting at the nipple Clarke’s teasing against his cheek and captures it between his teeth to suck hard making her scream a short high-pitched followed by his name.

“Bell!” as she pushes her whole tit into his mouth. At the nickname Roma’s haze is shut off like a switch and she walks towards them with new found defiance and determination.

“Off.” She demands aggressively tapping Clarke on the shoulder. _Who the hell does she think she is?_

“Babe? Who is this woman?” Clarke keens as Bellamy pulls his fingers out and lets her tit pop out of his mouth, smacking him in the face.

“Fuck, I don’t know,” he denies, “But I think you’re ready for me” he says staying in character removing his fingers from her slowly, keeping her panties pulled to the side to slide her down over his dick. She moans a ridiculously loud cry as she reaches the base with a tight squeeze. Once completely over him and properly adjusted, she pulls her skirt down over her ass and suddenly, she’s riding him completely clothed. Unbeknownst to the spectator in the room of what it looks like for his dick to slide in and out of her wetness as she makes him harder. That’s just for her now. He’s her now…

Just then, Finn walks in. Her boyfriend.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Mmmmm, _fuck yes._ ” Clarke is murmuring, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. She’s crossing her legs to squeeze her thighs together.

Completely oblivious to the fact that she is no longer in her alternate reality.

 

“Clarke? What the hell?!” Finn scolds, with a scowl that can only be described as devilish.

Bellamy is grinning from ear to ear, trying to contain it with a voracious gleam in his eyes. She’s already said his name twice. _Shit Bellamy, pull it together._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Ma’am, will you please inform my patient here that there’s a current session in progress, and he’ll need to schedule an appointment.” She says to Roma, addressing  
Finn. Roma storms towards them.

She continues riding Bellamy, bouncing up and down in his lap more forcefully while he slams her down by the hips to meet his thrusts. Her walls squeeze tight around his shaft, causing his dick to throb unsteadily inside her. Unable to hold on much longer he buries his face in her neck and bites down roughly and it sends sparks flying throughout her body. Clarke tilts her head back for exposure, then arches back to lean her hands behind her, steady against his thighs as he fucks up into her at this new angle.

“See babe,” he says panting out of control. “I told you I could make it work.” Roma makes it to the couch and tries to pull Clarke off of Bellamy by her arm but Clarke shoves her out of the way with one arm while the other grasps tightly around Bellamy’s neck.

“Bellamy! Put her down right now!” Roma screams hysterically. Finn just looks on in disgust shaking his head. “I mean it you asshole! Or were done!” she threatens.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
“…Miss Griffin? Can you hear me?”

“Clarke, will you snap out of it!” Finn says impatiently. He stares incredulously at her, humiliated by the scene unfolding before him. Not to mention the number of indecent sounds she’s been making for the last few minutes. “I don’t believe this.” Shaking his head in disgust. “You see what I mean?” gesturing towards her. Clarkes eyes are closed, she’s groaning in pleasure and biting her lower lip.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Fuck Clarke you have to come now!” he says full of urgency, grabbing her tits and brutally wolfing at them like they’re his last meal.

“Make me, Bellamy.” she taunts. He’s slamming her down so hard on his dick, the pain is there-- a nice sting, and the slapping noises their bodies produce are so loud it all reminds her of being spanked.

And that’s exactly enough. She screams.

“BELLLL!!! His dick pulses like a vibrator against her walls and her fluids flooding over his cock, spilling into his lap gives him the edge he needs. He thrusts in spurts as he growls into her neck, filling her up equally with his seed. They’re still pulsing around each other when Finn tries to grab her away from Bellamy but she only clings tighter as his arms wrap around her.

They’re the only one’s here in this moment together...

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey. Clarke.” Bellamy moves closer now to place a steady hand on her knee while the other cups the side of her face to stroke her cheek with his thumb and that seems to be enough to bring her back. “I’m right here.” he says. Aware of the actual situation, but desperate to keep her in the moment.

 

Her face is clammy. She’s flushed and dazed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'll update the tags as often as possible to keep from surprising anyone with the content, but a lot was rearranged when I posted this. Hence the change in the title. I'll continue making necessary changes along the way. The other title was actually the name of a different chapter. I was half asleep when I did the touch ups, but still, I'd appreciate your opinion!!! All mistakes are mine!!!


	2. Pushing Boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Though outlined, I've only been about three written chapters ahead, but editing is outrageously annoying. Seriously, is it just me or does editing make you add like another couple hundred words??? Anybody? Anyway, so thank you Morningstar! Everyone else, enjoy!

 

 

 

It’s only been a few weeks since Clarke and Finn have been seeing him, but he could sense the nympho tendencies in her immediately. The dreams are the most obvious of signs, but the mere descriptions of her individual thoughts as they relate to sexual desire and need are nothing if not compulsive.

 

On another less professional related note, he’s surprised she’s even still with this prick considering how evident the signs are. Clarke is only borderline, but still, it’s enough to make a person crazy being with the same useless person over and over. Being with this Finn dude. What a waste. _He could definitely scratch that compulsive itch._

_Shit._

 

He waits as she gathers herself.

 

“Hey, sorry about that. What happened?” She shakes it away pinching the bridge of her nose trying to compose herself. Clearly disoriented. “What were you saying?” She’s still a little flustered from the dream they’d just pulled her from. Though she has no idea that the noises coming from said fantasy actually managed to make their way to here and now. The men are staring at her with matching expressions of bewilderment, Bellamy’s for a totally different reason than Finn’s.

 

Finn’s the first to break the awkward silence, turning to face her completely, “Clarke. Are you kidding me right now?” He’s smiling, but it’s far from joyful. She thinks, _just maybe_ , she can see the steam coming from his ears. But now, terrifyingly so, he’s calm again.

 

He stands and gathers his coat and the car keys, “Sure we’ll do it.” He says to Bellamy. “We’ll go to the fucking retreat.” he relays, much more calmly than his words imply. “Maybe I’ll get a few orgasms out of it too…” shaking his head. Mumbling away, he leaves the office, slamming the door behind him.

 

After a few moments of awkward silence of him studying her, Bellamy moves on.

 

“Look, I know he’s upset, and the two of you came together. But if it’s ok with you, we still have forty-five minutes left in this session,” hoping he doesn’t come off as some desperate, over-invested therapist. “That is of course, if you’re comfortable speaking about it alone.”

 

Clarke is nervous, and it shows, unsure of whether she should stay, because therapy _was_ supposed to be for both her _and_ Finn. But he’s gone, she’s sure of it, and now she’s going to have to call an Uber to pick her up and drive her all the way across town. And with traffic this time of day, she’s going to have to wait at least 20 minutes for one to show anyway. _Might as well get her money’s worth._ Yeah, her money. Because since ‘ _she’s the one with the problem, it’s only fair that she’s covers the weekly payments,’ e_ ven though the result will benefit them both.

 

“Sure, I could stay. It might be easier to talk without Finn. You know...in case it happens again.” She adds sheepishly. She really does feel bad about her behavior, and Finn had every right to leave her here after everything that had transpired, but she can’t help it. So, for now, she’s going to try and figure out what the hell is going on with her so she doesn’t completely scare her boyfriend away. Even if he is a selfish loser in bed, even if _the thought_ of her therapist fucking her in her dreams is a much better alternative. At least later she could say that she had tried to make it work.

 

“Ok, great. Maybe we can talk about where you go? What does it feel like when you come back to reality? Does it feel like a daydreaming or does it feel deeper? Like actual sleep?”

 

“It kind of feels like dreaming when I wake up, but when I’m there it’s like...I know I’m fantasizing, except it feels unmistakably real.” she huffs, not really sure how to describe it while leaving out the part where she’s fantasizing about fucking him in this office. “Does that make sense?”

 

“Lucid dreaming.”

 

“What? Dreaming what?”

 

“It’s called lucid dreaming. What you described. I’m not sure just yet that it’s what’s going on with you, but that is most certainly what most people describe as happening in the majority of cases.” he turns his chair slightly in a nonchalant fashion. Hopefully she’ll notice how at ease he is so as to not completely freak out and think she’s schizophrenic or something.

 

“So.....how exactly could we determine this for sure? I mean, this may not be my area of expertise, but I’ve done some research before we started coming, and it all seems a little daunting.” She may not be a board-certified psychologist, but she _is_ a doctor for God’s sake. She’s heard of lucid dreaming before, but most of her research was from medical journals, the internet and medical encyclopedias due to her lack of nerve to ask her fellow colleagues for a referral.

 

And now, totally mortified by what she’s almost sure of what will come next… _please don’t say you want me to dream. Please don’t say you want me to dream._

 

“I want to be present in your dream state.”

 

_Fuck._

 

“Okay? And that means what?”

“Well, first, I want to get a better understanding of what it is you usually go through during these dreamscapes. A quite literal visual from your perspective. Where you are physically, like your surroundings. The plot: is there a theme, does it change, is it the same every time with minor prop changes? Things like that. The list can get quite intense, but it’s necessary to dissect it at it’s very core to help you gain control over it at the very least.”

 

“So, you’re saying the dreams, they may never go away?”

 

“For some people it’s just a state of awareness, for the most part, not so much the dream itself. For others, it can be both, depending on the dream.” He looks down out of fear that fearful of his intense eye contact with her, not wanting to make her feel more embarrassed than she already is; along with the common knowledge of her having voiced his name, _in a not so professional manner_ , more than a few times in the last hour.

 

“Ideally, it would be best to set up an additional session between now and our next regularly scheduled one to set the stage for such therapy. Unfortunately, the retreat happens before then. So, you have a few choices to make on how you’d to like to proceed. We could continue with therapy for the next few weeks, before taking a break to reanalyze everything. I will still be attending the retreat later in the schedule, however, as newcomers, you and Finn would no longer be qualified to join us as it would be a late start.”

 

“Okay so what happens if I come with you? I mean we-- come, like not _with you_ , with you, but like there with you as--as your guest… _regular guest!_ ” she corrects that last bit a little too loudly, and he smiles bashfully, clearly amused at her stammering. Clarke on the other hand, beet red, quietly tucks her tail between her legs and waits for him to respond.

 

“Well the other option, and in my opinion the best, would be to continue therapy at the retreat as time sees fit. I really don’t want you two to miss out on an extraordinary opportunity to attend one of these events because they only happen once or twice a year depending on the weather and everyone’s schedule. It’s a really amazing learning experience.”

 

Clarke stares off at the end table nearest him, considering her options. One thing’s for sure, there won’t be too many more opportunities to attend a therapy retreat with a bunch of sex therapists. Namely with her sex therapist with whom she keeps dreaming of doing. A sex therapy retreat. _A sex retreat. A sexy retreat…Mmmmm sex._

 

_Shit! Seriously. Pull it together._

 

“The only downside would be that we’d have to absolve our doctor-patient contract in place of the non-disclosure for the retreat.”

 

“A non-disclosure….that sounds serious?” she’s slightly nervous now.

 

“It can be.” He adds with just a little more fervor than he means, eyes gauging her reaction to his sudden change, unwavering.

 

_And there it is_ , she thinks. Her sex therapist, in full form at his full height, his voice deeper and much more calculating than before. But the regard with which he watches her now is with far more than the professionalism he had displayed a second ago, similar to that of his undertones in her dreams. Seemingly slightly uncontrolled, and completely opposite of his measured tone.

 

If her face wasn’t lit before, it most certainly is now.

 

But just as quickly, he reigns it in. Maybe she’s in her head again, maybe she imagined it, but for some reason she thinks he’s as eager for her to attend as she is to be there, though for a completely different reason.

 

She clears her throat, “Sure. Mhmm. Yeah, ok. Let’s do it. I mean--shit! You know what I mean. Yeah, I’ll go. We’ll go!” she corrects.

 

“Alright then.” collected again. “The retreat is in three days. I’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow, I suggest you two do the same. Getting there early is crucial for some of the regulars given how long registration takes, and the cabanas are first come-first served. They’re all quite nice, but some, the newly renovated ones, are more luxurious than others if you want your pick.” he stands, pad and pen in hand, and walks around behind his desk. Clarke follows suit, however staying stiffly planted to her spot in front of the couch. She’s briefly aware that their time has exceeded their session’s end about ten minutes ago, before he continues.

 

“I’ll make the necessary arrangements. You have my professional business card. If you have any questions until then feel free to contact me that way. I’ll email you a copy of the nondisclosure agreement later today. Sign it and send it back to me. The sooner the better.”

 

“Okay, great. Anything I need to bring?”

 

“Well, warm weather all throughout the day. So just pack how you normally would for vacation with that in mind.”

 

“Alright.” she turns to leave.

 

“Maybe a swimsuit.” she stops in her tracks, facing the door. When she turns to look at him, brows raised, he’s hunched over, packing his briefcase away directing all of his focus on the case, obviously avoiding her. When he speaks again, he does his damnedest to appear unphased by the undeniable visuals now going through his mind but fails massively, and it’s his turn to scramble. “The lakes...I mean, the other girls--women, they like to, uh, swim. In the lakes.” he adds matter-of-factly. _Jeez._ He mentally shakes his head, and stops his tasks for a moment.

 

Bellamy stands upright and rubs his hand down the back of his head. “We uh, we have free days in between seminars. And _we all_ like to hang at the lake on most of those days. But you don’t have to if you don’t want. But just so you have the option, you know,” he gestures towards her.

 

“Pack a swimsuit.” she finishes for him.

 

“Yes.” Totally relieved of his complete lack of balls right now. “Pack a swimsuit.”

 

Clarke smiles, he smiles back, and she leaves the room. Happy to know that she’s not the only one that turns into an immature teenager at the thought of a naked human being.

 

 

By the time Bellamy makes it home, he’s fucking exhausted. Not only did he fail to complete anything from his errand to-do list, but he hasn’t packed one goddamned piece of clothing for the retreat. Now there’s only tomorrow, so he’s going to have to squeeze it all in one day, and be productive as fuck. Starting now.

 

He throws his suitcase on his bed and immediately searches through his drawers and closet for the lightest things he can find. No point in shopping for new shit. _Most of it’ll be coming off multiple times throughout the day anyway,_ he thinks with a smirk. Then his mind drifts to last indecent thought he imagined with regards to the retreat. _Miss Griffin in a bathing suit. A tight ass two piece to be exact._ He’d wanted so badly to tell her that all she’d need to bring was, at most, a few outfits and an unlimited amount of underwear seeing as those would be the ones to take the most beating. _No pun intended_ , he smirks. Shaking the thought, again, he leaves the room heading to the kitchen for a drink. He needed one hours ago, and if he’s got to get through a whole night packing a bunch of useless shit all the while thinking about her and whatever the fuck it was she’d dreamt about him, he needed it now.

 

It was going to be one long ass night.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Bellamy wakes the next day to the most obnoxious alarm clock in the world. Face in the pillow, ass naked, highball glass on the nightstand, he rolls over to stop the bitch ass ringing. And _fuck._ He needs a shower. And so does the sheets.

 

Yeah, he made some questionable choices last night, but so what. A certain someone wasn’t the only someone he’d thought of in his half-tipsy stupor while he got himself off before completely passing out.

Ok if he’s being honest, he wasn’t tipsy at all. In fact, one drink was all it took _combined_ with the exhaustion from the stress of the upcoming retreat, _AND_ the fact that he hadn’t taken the week off from his regularly scheduled sessions, which mostly came from his last attempt at trying to find a way to invite Clarke to the retreat.

 

Originally, he hadn’t planned on it. But the further into their lives she’d let him, the more eager he became to show her a whole new world outside of the god-awful bubble she’d been living in. With _Finn._ And up until last night before she’d sent the returned NDA with her signature on it, he might have felt bad about coming all over his sheets imagining it was her. But nope, as of right fucking now, she was officially on his radar. No ring, no contract, _fair game._

 

Finally, dressed for the day in a white dress shirt, classic pair of dark dress pants, tailor-specific, but not slim (he’s far to cut for that shit), and a pair of black leather dress shoes he’s heads out for the first stop on his list.

 

He’s able to grab his thermos in hand, toast between his teeth, and just as he reaches for his dark-gray, fitted trench coat on the coat rack a wolf-call stops him in his tracks.

 

_Ah shit. Here we go._

 

“Owww!” he hears behind him. And she starts whistling. _Almost as though, she’d been waiting for him all morning to appear._ He sighs, exasperated, turning around.

 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here, Gina?” the other girl moves past her to the kitchen smiling, in nothing but a tank top and boy-shorts.

 

“I don’t know Echo…” she teases. “Looks like someone’s trying to get all nice and pretty for someone.” the girls move around one another in the kitchen, putting together the same breakfast Bellamy holds.

 

“First-off, I look like this every day.” he begins to list.

 

“OOoohhhh!” they chime at the same time.

 

“Second, why would I need to get ‘ _pretty_ ’ for anyone? I’m just running a few errands before the retreat, then headed to the office for a few last-minute case files. That’s it. And Jesus, what were you two waiting around the corner listening for me or something?” He chuckles teasingly, knowing that’ll get them going.

 

“Oh, you wish!” Echo flips him off.

 

“Bellamy, please, self-flattery is unbecoming of you.” Gina shakes her head at him disapprovingly.

 

They’re chewing into him at the same time non-stop, and he’s lost track of who’s saying what.

 

“Okay, okay! Shhh! Look, I’d love to continue this with you ladies, but I really do have a lot to make up for today, so if you don’t----”

 

“Wait, did he just shush us?” Gina frowns.

 

“Oh, that's right! You’ve got that new patient, now. Little Miss Blondie.” she sing-songs. “I bet that’s who he’s getting all ‘tall-dark-and-handsome’ for.”

 

“Echo, don’t start.”

 

“Who’s ‘little Miss Blondie?” Gina mimics, smile quickly fading into nervous curiosity.

 

“No one,” he looks to Gina turning back to Echo, “and no, she’s not on my schedule today, no one is. I have a three month-long list of supplies that I have to pick up in,” he looks down at his brown and gold fancy watch he’d gotten from his mother last Christmas, “exactly ten hours, all over town, so if you’ll excuse me----”

 

“Oh, come on Bellamy, we need a little gossip in our lives! The schedule’s been so boring lately. And I know this one must be juicy, because I saw the boyfriend leave almost a whole hour before she did, absolutely pissed. _THEN_!” She turns to Gina exaggeratedly and way more excited about his new patient than the curvy brunette is. “THEN, when Bellamy’s finally done with her…” she adds suggestively, “She sits in the main lobby and has to wait for an _UBER_ because her douche boyfriend never came back!” Echo doubles over and bursts into laughter, completely unaware of the tension in the room.

 

Gina’s looking at Bellamy questioningly, but he’s quiet, still focused on Echo in disbelief.

 

“She took an Uber?” because seriously? That little prick wasn’t downstairs waiting for her. _What the fuck kind of jackass-_ \--

 

Interrupted yet again (even in his own thoughts), “Yep. But don’t worry, she didn’t seem too broken up about it. She actually looked really happy when she left your office, so no worries there.” Pointedly staring down at his zipper. Gina spits out a mouthful of coffee.

 

“It’s not like that, so don’t go spreading rumors around the office. I just invited her to the Summit.” He explains as dully as possible.

 

“WHAT?!” Echo screeches as Gina spits out more coffee. “Jesus, would you stop that!” she laughs, wiping Gina’s coffee off of her arm with a paper towel.

 

These three have lived together for just over nine months, and have definitely shared some wild nights together amongst them. However, they’re all aware of the situation, and no pact needed to be officially made for any of them to know that none of what went on between them would ever be made permanent. Unfortunately, in these situations, someone always breaks first. And in this case, it was Gina. She never really verbalized her feelings for Bellamy _to Bellamy_ or to Echo even, but it was an unspoken tension between the three of them. An electric one. After sex, Echo liked to pass out in her own bed, sated, and alone. Gina liked to cuddle, and talk.

 

Bellamy had no objections to either of their methods, as long as everyone got what they needed from each other. But they're all doctors. Psycho-analyzing doctors of some sort, no-less. Gina a family therapist, Echo a plastic surgeon-turned psychologist, and Bellamy a Social Worker-turned Psychologist; all with a specialty in couples and sex therapy.

 

They're not dumbasses.

 

The implications were there between them. Which is why, just two months ago, Bellamy called a roommates meeting and decided that everything between the three of them should remain strictly platonic, unless work-related. It’s what was best for the practice, their lease-agreement, and their friendship.

 

Fast-forward to now.

 

Echo laughs, this time more shocked and disbelieving. It’s not that doctors don’t invite their patients to these kinds of things, because they do. It’s mostly _for the patients_. It’s just, there’s usually a well, thought-out list months ahead of time of who’s going to attend. They even corroborate together over dinner and drinks, or coffee, or _something_. They seek opinion and advice from their colleagues; not mandatory, just friendly. But this? Bellamy inviting a couple mere days before a retreat this huge? For him, this was highly unusual. Not questionable, but definitely curious, and he knew it, all the more reason to deny his attraction to Clarke, because it was definitely not the _only_ reason he thought she should come. _Obviously_.

 

“Bellamy?” she looks almost hurt. She probably is.

 

“Gina, don’t encourage her. It’s not what is sounds like.”

 

“Oh really?” Echo tries. “Then please, enlighten us. What makes her so qualified that she can afford a last-minute invite? Hmm? Prospective clients were vetted _weeks ago._ ” Arms crossed, shit eating grin on her face. Baiting him. But he doesn’t fall for it. Grabbing his trench coat and quickly swinging the door open.

 

“Doctor-patient confidentiality.” he says before powering out, not bothering to let the door close behind him.

 

“Oh bullshit----” he hears, disappearing down the hall.

 

 

MEANWHILE….

 

“Finn. You’re the one who agreed to this.”

 

“Oh please, like you were eager to object!” she huffs, quiet on the other end waiting for the inevitable apology. “Look, I’m sorry Clarke, okay. I know none of this is your fault, but honestly, can you blame me for being pissed! Just once, I’d like for my fiancé to have a sex dream about the man lying next to her. Jesus. Look, I know it’s not ideal, but I can’t get out of this work thing. Plus, I’ll just fly there to catch up later.”

 

“Seriously?! She’s definitely shouting now. “What about me? Are you kidding me right now?” she laughs in disbelief. So, I guess I’m just supposed to drive there in the middle of the night by myself then….” shaking her head in disgust she waits for his response.

 

“Look, can’t you just hop a ride with the therapist?”

 

“Un-fucking-believable--” and she ends the call.

 

Clarke throws her phone on the bed and flops down at her desk. She stares at her laptop for what feels like an hour, then finally composes a new message to one Dr. Blake.

 

After sending Bellamy the signed NDA and annulment of therapeutic services, with the promises of bringing along her hard copy originals, he’d forwarded her his personal contact info. It’s not that she didn't want to call him or use any of it, she just didn't want to be the first one to break that doctor-patient barrier they had created. So, she would continue to use the original info given to her those few months ago.

 

She quickly types out her situation, explaining how Finn will be late and asks his opinion on hopping a flight or just driving it out the day of, with the hopes of making it on time. What she absolutely _does not_ ask is what Finn suggested she ask. She considers for a moment before sending the message, then makes a conscious decision to attach her personal contact info as well. Maybe he will be the one to break first.

 

_He is._

 

She hits send and returns to throwing every Victoria’s Secret unmentionable into her carry-on luggage, and not even a whole four minutes later, her phone rings. She already knows who it is before walking over to where her phone lay, because for everyone in her short list of contacts, they all have the same ringtone: different from the unknown caller ringing her now.

 

She answers silently.

 

“Clarke? Are you there?” _God, his voice is like chocolate. Dripping from a chocolate fountain with more chocolate and--_ ”Can you hear me ok, I’m in a bad spot.”

 

“Uh yeah. No, I can hear you fine. So, you got my email?”

 

Yeah, uh that’s why I called. Look, I know you said you could drive or fly, but both of those options seem really shitty. Especially when there is at least a half dozen therapists in the area, myself included, driving up the night before. I’d be more than happy to pick you up on the way, but if you’d feel comfortable with someone else, I can make a few calls and have it arranged in a few hours.” the line goes silent.

 

“Clarke?”

 

“Sorry, I’m still here. But um, I don’t want to be a burden or anything, I just--”

 

“Clarke.” _Fuck his voice is deep._

 

She sighs, embarrassed at how easy that was.

 

“Only if it’s truly not out of your way.”

 

“You’re not out of my way. And seriously, you’re doing me a favor. I’d make way better timing having someone keeping me company.” He’s smiling, she can tell.

 

“Ok, well… thank you, Bellamy.” Getting used to the way his name sounded on her lips since last night when he’d told her to call him that as part of a list for “Six Things that change when you were no longer a Doctor’s patient.” Calling him Dr. Blake was number five.

 

“Anytime. I’ll pick you up from your house at seven tomorrow morning, text me your address. See you in the morning.”

 

“See you tomorrow.” The line goes dead and she covers her mouth to hide an unexpected smile blooming her cheeks.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being MIA, it's hard to juggle a crap ton sometimes. But thank you to everyone reading! Thanks for you kudos and comments, they DO NOT go unnoticed, my motivation if anything. I'll get back to you soon, and Happy New Year.


	3. Of Becoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!!! Didn't mean to take so long, but I got a little distracted...  
> But, here's the next update! I'm so happy that you all are enjoying! And thank you for taking the time to leave your kudos and comments!!!! Don't be afraid to ask questions if you have them. You make me smile!
> 
> Someone else that makes me smile....Beta-Morningstar!!! Despite her busy life she gives me the time of day! lol So thank you for fixing my mindless mistakes. Of course, as always, I try to capture a few more feelings before posting, so....sorry for any other mistakes ;)
> 
> *Terribly sorry for the ending....my edit somehow ruined the ONE AND ONLY cue for the non-smutters to avoid the ending. Hence this edit update.  
>  
> 
> There are a few things I should address going into this chapter...
> 
> First, I just realized that I never clarified the dreamscape format. Sorry about that. Yes, the characters discussed it, but I probably should've mentioned that I won't be using Italics at all when Clarke slips into a dream. I don't want to drive you guys crazy with all the slanted chunks as there will be an unusual amount of back and forth coming up when Bellamy finally tags along for the ride ;) But no worries, there are still a good 5-6 chapters before that happens.
> 
> Next, as you'll notice in the upcoming chapters, Clarke's dreams have been specific to women that Bellamy knows personally, and not just in canon-verse...you'll see what I mean later in this chapter. I assure you, there is a reason for this...in due time.
> 
> Which brings me to my last point, the end is smutty. Not very long, however, if you plan on skipping it, just make sure to read the final scene change (denoted by the line break) so that you're not confused about what is going on when it starts up again.

Clarke lives in a complex much like his, but on the other side of town. Which, like his, required outsiders to park many blocks around the corner in a residential area since lower level parking was for residents only. What she also forgot to mention, was that the owner of the building was having repairs done, _ apparently _ , to the comms system downstairs and no one without an ID was allowed in.  

“Hey, it’s me. I’m downstairs, but they won’t let me up without you.”

“Crap! Sorry, I totally forgot to mention the repairs,” putting him on speaker to grab her sweater from the closet.

“Don’t worry about it. But there’s nowhere to park, so I’ll have to meet you by the garage. You almost ready?” He can hear rustling on the other line as she moves about frantically.

“Yeah.” She moves in a flurry, throwing her last minute items into an overnight bag. “Yeah, I’m coming. I’ll meet you at the gate in ten.”

When Clarke comes through the side garage gate, Bellamy is standing at the top of the hill that leads down to the main garage entrance with his back facing her, hands in his pockets, staring at the buildings across the street. Seemingly deep in thought. 

 

She takes a relaxing breath and a few seconds more to ogle his physique. He is so unbelievably handsome, even from behind.

Part of her wants to be her true self around him, just be free and let all of her inhibitions go. Learn what it’s like to be looked at and adored by a man like him. She can tell he’s the type. But she’s  _ engaged _ . No matter how badly it’s sucked these past six months, she’s going to try this last-ditch effort to save her relationship to a man she’s no longer sexually attracted to, despite how depressing that sounds. Even if it means keeping her eyes (and dreams) to herself while around Bellamy.

Though given the nature of their current relationship and the non-disclosure she signed the night before, it might be the hardest temptation to overcome yet.

Gathering herself, she lets the gate close itself loudly to get his attention.  _ No more saying his name unnecessarily at least for a few more hours. Maybe days. _

He smiles, which fades when he sizes her up and his eyes traces down her pale pink tank which opens at the top and is so obviously a bodysuit, tucked into a pair of light wash, high-waisted jeans. He almost looks seductive when he walks towards her, but that can’t be. He’s well too aware of her situation as his former client and with regards to Finn. But never mind that because he’s clearly speechless, and she’s obviously the reason. So, she helps him out a little.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” He’s looking at her confused, however, as though he’s questioning her. But he doesn’t say anything. So, she lets him take the small duffel and carry on she’s hauling while she hangs on to her clutch and sweater and trails behind him finding it a tad difficult to trek up the asphalt entrance in her sandals.

_ Why does it feel like he’s picking her to spend the weekend with him or something? _

She walks with him to the back of his SUV, and when he opens the back she gasps.

“Oh my god. Is this what you were doing all day yesterday?” staring in awe at the twenty plus something of bags and boxes.

“Yeah.” He breathes, shaking his head in disbelief. “Unfortunately, the majority of these supplies are needed just during the first few weeks alone. It’s last minute, but I tried to time the order just perfect so I didn't have to move this stuff back and forth too much.” She nods, heading to the passenger side and he follows.

“So, where to first? I’m thinking coffee, because I had a really rough start this morning, and I’m running on fumes at the moment.” He opens the door for her and waits, leaning on its frame as she situates her belongings on her side.

“Oh yeah. How so?” his voice a little deeper when he speaks, laced with something close to accusation, and a little more curious and knowingly than before. She halts her movements. Hesitantly, she turns swiftly towards him where he’s staring down at her.

She’s absolutely mortified at how careless she was with her words, unable to put a filter through, forgetting he was her therapist just a few days ago.  _ Forgetting  _ that he knows all about her uncontrolled dreaming of him. And yes, technically he was  _ her and Finn’s  _ sex therapist. But she’s been the main focus since having started. They hadn’t even touched on Finn’s inability to please the girl before first satisfying himself, e _ very single time.  _ So here she is treading this awkward moment of convincing him he was not the object of her desire last night.  _ He obviously was. _

 

However, Bellamy didn’t appear to be taunting her in anyway. He seemed like he was trying to convince her to open up if anything. Like as if every move he’d made, every word in their conversation from the time he’d seen her today up until now was calculated to reveal this very topic.

_ Was he that good? Shit. Has he been psychoanalyzing her this whole time?  _ She drifts, staring off at nothing past his shoulder as she ponders the thought further.

“Clarke. You were saying you had a rough morning? How so? Bad dream?”  _ And there it is. _

Her hand goes to rub her shoulder and she looks down, suddenly shy. “I wouldn’t exactly call it  _ bad _ ,” she counters. And when she looks up again, his beautiful, creamy skin is tinged with the faintest tint of red while his ears burn bright.

Bellamy clears his throat nervously thinking of the unspoken line they’ve drawn, and trying helplessly to avoid crossing it. So, he says the only thing he can right now in lieu of what he actually wants to say to her.

“Let’s get going, shall we?” Closing the door after her, they drive over to the corner whole foods store.

It’s only a few blocks East, but because of parking, it takes them ten minutes before they’re actually in the store. It resembles more a farmer’s market than a wholesale vitamin store, unlike the ones where she grew up. The owner comes from the back when he hears the door chime.

“Clarke, my favorite little grifter!” The Indian man walks to her, grabbing her face with both hands and placing a smacking kiss on both sides.

“Papa Anil.” She grins from ear to ear a little bashful. Feeling guilty about not coming to stop by at least once in the past few weeks if not just to say hello. Not to mention, she can feel Bellamy studying her.

It’s been about a month since she’s been out for groceries, all takeout. With her crazy schedule at work, and now added to that fact the recent therapy sessions...it’s just hard.

“I missed you darling! You don’t come to see me for almost three weeks! I almost came to your house to make sure you’re still alive child.” he says, dropping his hands from Clarke’s face to rest on her shoulders.

“I know, but I’m here now. And I’m sorry, it’s just been so busy lately. I’ll try to be better at coming by. It’s actually why I came by today.” Bellamy looks to Clarke then. Completely caught off guard by her confession. He was confused when he’d explained he had a week’s worth of snacks packed in the chest for only a day or so on the road, but he just figured that maybe she had some fancy Ryder’s list of shit she wanted to bring along. Obviously not the case.

“What is it, dear? Is something wrong?” Worry clearly etched on the man’s face.

“No everything’s….everything.” she nods, not wanting to completely lie to him having to explain her situation with Finn, and why she’s here with Bellamy…added to where she’s headed with him. “I just came by to pick up a few things and to say hello before I head off. We’ll be back in a few months. We’re off to a work retreat.” She adds timidly. And suddenly the man is curious.

“She takes  _ vacation _ …how very interesting you must be to get this one to leave the house when she’s not working.” He directs towards Bellamy. “You two have been together how long now? Nine months? One year?” He glances between the two of them.

Clarke’s eyes widen in alarm and Bellamy smirks looking down at his shoes deciding to let Clarke handle that one. “Oh no, he’s not—Anil, he’s not Finn…” Bellamy’s brows raise in a knowing expression as if to say  _ damn right I’m not. _

Clarke avoids his eyes after that.

Confused, he waits for an explanation. “Are you sure dear, because he is as  _ handsome as they come, _ and you two make quite a sight to see.” Eying Bellamy in his attempt at match-making.

“I’m sorry this is my fault. Uh, Papa Anil, this is Bellamy.  _ Bellamy,  _ this is Anil Mishra, he and his wife are the owners.” She’s more than a little embarrassed now, but as the two exchange pleasantries (Bellamy addressing the older man by last name, Anil patting Bellamy like he’s meeting his future son-in-law for the first time…), her nervousness slowly seeps away. After all, it’s not  _ so bad  _ to have him be the one thats gets mistaken as her boyfriend.

“I just didn’t want to worry you when it’s been a few months without me visiting.”

“Of course, dear.” And he turns to Bellamy smiling, “Smart girl this one she knows I’ll show up at her front door with the authorities if I don’t hear from her for too long.”

They browse the store, adding snacks to the counter as they go, and after buying a good thirty bucks worth, they say their goodbyes and, on the way out, she steals a peek at Bellamy who’s already watching her carefully.

“What?” She snips, turning to look ahead again, leading the way back to the truck.

“Nothing.” Shaking his head, amused, failing miserably to keep the spreading grin at bay.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. It looks like you’re psychoanalyzing me.” Hoping to appear indifferent. He always makes her a little uneasy in his presence (for obvious reasons), but especially so now, having interacted so openly and intimately within her personal life outside of therapy. 

He laughs. “I’m not that kind of therapist Clarke.” Looking to her, seemingly bored with her cliché expectations of his profession.

“ _ All therapists are that kind of therapist, Bellamy.”  _ She mocks.

He smiles. “Do me a favor…don’t say that in front of the other therapists when we get to the retreat.” The bell on the door chimes as he holds it open for her, and they make their way towards his truck with smiles on their faces.

 

* * *

 

 

“I thought you didn’t have any siblings?” he starts the second he’s seated then closes his door.

Clarke, equally confused, “Um, I don’t. I’m an only child. You know that, why would you think otherwise?”

“The man in the market, he just called you his favorite little Griffin…” She’s looking at him completely baffled.  _ What the hell is he talking about?  _

Then, as her understanding clears, Clarke bursts into laughter. It’s so loud and obnoxiously hideous, Bellamy makes a face at her, which just makes her laugh harder, because he has no idea what is going on. She can’t even put her seatbelt on all the way because she’s doubled over cackling like a hyena, trying to catch her breath at the same time.

“Seriously Clarke?” he chuckles a little, not even sure why her hysterics are making him blush.

“Okay, okay.” Okay.” she straightens putting on her serious face. And when she clears her throat the laughter starts again, this time a little breathless, close to something like wheezing.

“Jesus Christ. You know what, fine don’t tell me why I just clearly just made such a complete ass of myself that it made you laugh non stop for the last five minutes.”

“Aww, poor baby--”she gives her best sympathetic pout in between a fit of giggles.

“No, it’s okay.” He dismissed. “Just sit there and laugh the whole way to the retreat while I hang onto the itinerary I planned on letting you have a peek at.  _ Before any of the other invitees _ .” That got her to stop laughing. Bellamy, a little satisfied by her reaction, finally looks to her expectantly.

She slowly calms her giggles, becoming more serious by the second. “Seriously, you’re going to bribe me with something  _ you know  _ would calm my nerves significantly? All because I hurt your feelings!” She shrieks in disbelief.

He shakes his head, “Didn’t your mom ever tell you it’s not nice to make inside jokes in front of mixed company,” he scolds.

“That’s what makes it an inside joke, Bellamy!” she shouts, smacking his arm. Now he’s appalled.

He scoffs, “Didn’t you mom ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?” his brows raise teasingly for emphasis awaiting her response.

Clarke shakes her head, “Unbelievable.” she scoffs, crossing her arms, smile pulling at her lips. She bites the bottom to control it.

“It’s up to you Princess. Though I must add, my schedule is exclusive to therapeutic instructors. Kind of a big deal.” he teases. And she’s not sure why, but something about the way he calls her  _ Princess  _ has her body responding in ways she choosing to ignore at this moment. She’ll have to question him about that later.

She sighs, completely defeated. Practically salivating at the prospect of having her hands on a step by step look into what to expect in the upcoming months. A  _ sex retreat  _ for god's sakes. 

 

She buckles her seatbelt and caves. “Fine, alright. I’ll tell you. But just know... that this is low, Bellamy, and far from over.” She nods matter-of-factly, and playfully serious.

 

He smiles his acknowledgement as she continues, though gradual nervous sets in, afraid of what he’ll think of her. For some reason she cares a little more everyday about his opinions, and she finds that this makes it harder for her to open up. 

However, reluctantly, she explains. “I.... may have gotten into a little trouble when I was in high school. Grifting and the likes…nothing too illegal?” wincing as she trails off, more of a question of agreement than a real explanation.

“I’m sorry, you what--what does that have anything to--” 

 

And as she watches the pieces fall into place, his face simultaneously shifting through different emotions, it’s his turn to laugh. It’s booming, guttural, and intermittently high-pitched all at once. Clarke turns her head to hide the shy smirk plastered on her face.  _ She knew he would make a big deal about this,  _ albeit friendly.

“You sound like a hyena Bellamy.” She goads.

“ _ I  _ sound like---”pointing to himself. He roars louder this time, Clarke shaking her head. But he comes to faster than she did.

 

“Oh, not so fun when someone’s laughing at  _ your  _ expense is it?” But when she looks at him he’s sincere, apologetic even.

“Soooo, when she called you her ‘favorite little grifter’...” he smiles and chokes back a laugh, Clarke mimicking his response, “She  _ actually  _ meant,  _ Grifter _ ? Not  _ Griffin _ ” he’s smiling when she turns to him.

“Yes, Bellamy, I tried my very young, teenage hand at grifting. Happy now?” her question completely doused in faux annoyance.

“Ecstatic.”  _ His smile as bright as the sun _ , she thinks, and she can’t help but return it.

“I don’t need the whole story Clarke, but thank you for sharing.” and his utter genuineness makes her heart beat faster. Bellamy starts the car, and sits back to buckle his own seatbelt, finally. “For the record, I would've given it to you either way.” giving her his most charming smile. Her jaw drops in a silent gasp.

“You ass!” she yells smacking him multiple times this time making him laugh, shielding himself from her abuse as he pulls off into traffic.

The familiarity of it all had her smiling out the window for hours later as she watched the sunset. The ease with which he remains open to her despite having been absolved of all psychological obligations, yet hardly clinical to say the least, makes her feel as though it may be something of a rare occurrence. This new non-doctor-patient relationship of theirs doing things to her psyche that she knows will have lasting effects on her once this is all over, is not one she plans to delve too deep into guileless; and in which direction this leads is what scares her the most, even in its early stages.

And it’s at that moment that she  _ willing _ let her thoughts linger on her fiancé for the first time since she’d hung up on him last night. Already not a good sign...

Yet, they talk here and there, conversational topics. Nothing too deep just yet.

But soon, the companionable silence had her watching lights past behind her eyelids figuring she may as well get some sleep since it would be her turn to take over soon.

_ And she drifts... _

 

* * *

 

 

“Alright, Caleb.” She nods to the man through a framed window on the wall behind Bellamy. Caleb, hits a switch on a remote and suddenly the ‘window’ transforms into pixels that amasses a painting of the Budapest coastline. The man long gone.

Bellamy turns back to Clarke. “What the hell was that?” He questions, neither startled nor enlightened.

“That, Mr. Blake, is an observation window. We’ll be conducting today’s session in one of many of our simulation rooms here.” She explains coolly, her legs crossed at the knees while her top leg aimlessly thrusts in his general direction.

“And why exactly would we need someone listening in on today’s session? Is this some sort of learning facility?” he adds, a little unsettled.

Clarke pulls her glasses from their spot tucked within her cleavage and slides them low on her nose. She considers keeping up with this charade for a bit longer to be sure he won’t back out at the last minute, but…

She stands from her chair, “Why, role play, of course.” Clarke walks around to where the small loveseat faces the observation window. She beckons him with her outstretched arm, and he stares at it for a minute considering the repercussions of starting without his girlfriend. Deeming it acceptable for whatever punishment awaits him, he  moves to her location better positioned in front of the window.

“And what about Echo?” He challenged. Seeming both suspicious and curious of the direction she was going. “Shouldn’t we wait for her considering this  _ is Couple’s Therapy.” _

“Actually,” stepping closer within his girth. “It’s just  _ Sex Therapy  _ that a couple happens to attend together.” She reaches up to run a hand down the length of his arm. “We sometimes have exercises that requires individual participation so that the significant other an observe changes with a new partner.” She’s being at least half as enticing as she means to be with his steady hard-on a blaring alarm against her front.

He looks only slightly hesitant when she implores, “Unless…if it makes you nervous to be alone with me while she’s not around…” Her hand moves to his chest and slowly descends, his eyes close as she reach the bulge in his pants and gives a firm squeeze, her small hand remaining cupped around his groin, and  _ he growls. _

Bellamy’s eyes open to reveal black pools of domination, and she knows that he’s taken the bait. He’s cornered right where she wants him and on cue, rising to the challenge, his large hand reaches through the top front layer of her gray wrap dress and roughly palms her naked breast pinching the nipple between his middle and forefinger. His other hand comes around to rest gently on her lower back before a sudden tug has her flush against him.

Her breath leaves in a gasp and the hand on her back slides down to squeeze her ass cheek.

“What is you want me to do?”

 

His voice catches her by surprise and before she’s able to filter her thoughts on the matter her left leg goes up of its own volition to wrap around his waist; her heel digs into his ass, nudging his dick closer to her center. 

 

Message received, and her eyes roll back as he grinds into her, giving her the momentary reprieve her cunt is begging for.

Her sated eyes flutter open. “Tell me you like my dress.” Her voice so breathy it's barely audible. She bites her lip when he grinds into her again.

“You mean the dress completely covering you? It’s beautiful…and I fucking hate it. Take it off.” He whispers in her ear. His hand dips low and reaches beneath the back of her dress to lift the fabric up over her ass squeezing it again, and he physically shutters at the realization that she’s not wearing any underwear either.

At that, he surges forward to meet her lips where she kisses him as fiercely as he gives, all tongue and teeth. His hand caresses her breast once more before he drops it, leaving it exposed on the outside of her dress and his arms lifts her up completely around his waist.

He turns and walks them towards her desk placed strategically in front of the painting on the wall. He drops her to her feet and swiftly spins her catching herself on the desk just in time.

“A little cliché, don’t you think.” She teases, even as she pokes her ass out further in his direction. He leans in and bites her neck, making sure to grind his crotch up against her ass as his belt just barely grazes between. Her eyes roll back.

“You have something better in mind?” his words muffled in the meat of her shoulder. He snakes one arm around her waist allowing his erection to stroke her ass once more. The other hand grabs hold of her exposed breast and she groans something filthy.

She lifts off the desk, tucks her boob back within the confines of the stretchy fabric and turns in his arms, and when he looks into her eyes she flashes him a smirk that screams mischief. Reaching into a hidden pocket on the side of her dress, she retrieves a small black remote the size of a wine cork.

“Well, for one…” she simpered, pressing the red button. “I’d say it’s time we got this show started.”

And for the second time that day, he watched as the observation window was slowly revealed as the pixels of the painting bled away becoming one with the glass. On the other side –a screaming Echo being held back by the waist, a struggling Caleb doing his damnedest to avoid interrupting.

Clarke saunters closer to him and pushes him backwards, hands on his chest until they reach the love seat.

“Dr. Griffin, what the hell is this?” Bellamy looks panicked for a moment, but she hasn’t lost him just yet, not entirely. She moves to undo the zipper on his jeans leaving his belt intact, and slides her hand in to wrap around his cock with a firm grip and strokes the length of him.

Bellamy swears. “Fuck. Wait, stop... I think we should let her in.” but she doesn’t stop, she swipes at the precum beaded at the tip of his cock and smears it over the head with her thumb as she slowly pulls it out of his pants through his fly.

“The whole point of her being on the  _ other side  _ of the window is to avoid her interruptions. As you see Caleb doing a fine job of that.” She smiles, sinks to her knee and without warning takes him entirely in her mouth until he hits the back of her throat, bobbing a few times with an intense amount of suction.

Bellamy nearly loses his balance and grabs her hair to still her, but his efforts are futile as it only makes the pressure of her mouth more secure around his cock. A few strokes more and mere seconds later, she’s standing on her feet again bracing a hand on the side of his face to get his attention. 

 

He attempts to split his attention between the woman in front of him and the one on the other side of the glass shouting quiet threats at the sound proof walls.

Clarke cuts off his line of vision with her body and a questioning gaze, and his eyes fix on hers. “I know it seems daunting, but I’m doing this for you.” She assures.

She takes a step back and unties the sash in the front holding her dress together, and rolls it off her shoulders letting it fall to a heap on the floor, and she’s left standing stark naked in front of him. She squeezes past him between the arm of the small sofa and perch one palm on the arm nearest her thighs, bending over a little to reach, and she grabs the back of the chair with the other hand, spreading her thighs as she does. She looks to him over her shoulder expectantly. Engrossed in the position she’s taken he looks into her blue eyes for only a moment before he hangs his head in defeat.

Finally, with one last look to the window, his decision is made. He turns to Clarke and she has to squeeze her thighs together when his dick smacks her ass. His bottom lip is between his teeth before she turns to look away awaiting his next move.

Bellamy runs his obscenely large hand down her smooth back, painfully slow until he reaches the dimples in her back then grips his hand at her waist there and dips his cock between her thighs to drag it along her center which is predictably soaked now. Clarke, seemingly unaffected by the fluids that drench his long shaft. Her restraint is borderline. She continues grinding, but halts her goading when she feels the head lightly sweep over her  _ other entrance. _

“Wrong hole, Mr. Blake.” She says over her shoulder not making full eye contact, knowing full well he grazed it with every intention of eliciting a response from her. She turns forward again, only to have him grab her chin in his hand, turning her face to look at him over her shoulder.

“Is it?” he challenged _ , smirking like the devil himself _ , he uses his free hand to pull her ass cheek away from the other and slowly eases the head right through the tight space until the tip disappears between her ass cheeks when he lets go.

She lets out a high-pitched moan and drops her head forward, her hair now a curtain for the blooming color alight her skin. Her walls contract around his dick and she’s sure the waterfall of fluids leaking from her cunt don’t go unnoticed.

  
  


“It’s okay, slow and steady Dr. Griffin, it’s going to be a tight squeeze, patience…” as he reaches around to palm her between her thighs from the front slightly pushing her against him to let his length slide in with ease. He smears the arousal over and around her clit and slowly rubs circles around it, grazing by just barely every few seconds. 

 

The friction is exactly what she needs because then she’s making an obscene amount of noises in time with the swelling he sends through her as he slowly bottoms out in her ass.

For all that she enjoys about this moment she really just has no control over her breathing and the moans that spill from her lips as she begins pulsates around him in an irregular pattern.  _ And fuck,  _ she knows she’s going to come soon.

“Bellamy…” she keens, thrusting back against him hoping he gets the point and  _ move already. _

“Yes, Dr. Griffin?” he moves slowly at first, soft, yet deep thrusts. He has to remind her to breath even as she moans with every plunge, each a little more forceful than the one before while slowly building up his attention on her clit. 

“I need to come –” she manages, her eyelids are heavy, half closed, and she’s barely hanging onto the sofa anymore, her energy melting away as he picks up the pace and starts massaging her clit with the heel of his palm to allow two fingers to slide into her at once.

“Yeah? Already? And here I thought we were putting on a show…” at that he sweeps her hair up and around into his fist and yanks her head back inducing a groan from her throat and he fucks into her even faster, occasionally slamming into her meanly. Now, having reached a steady, yet aggressive pace, he rubs fast circles over her swollen bud, sloshing loudly beneath his fingers as he awaits her impending orgasm.

She’s aware of the moment that he feels himself getting close because he increases his efforts, rubbing faster, pounding harder, and more erratically squeezing her ass against his pelvis. And for a second she’s worried that like so many times before, she won’t get to come because of yet another selfish prick who thinks only of his own pleasure while using her body to obtain it. But then he says….

“You know…she won’t let me fuck  _ her ass _ . It’s mostly the reason we’re here to begin with.” And for some reason, Clarke feels a sense of triumph take over her senses. “She’s too dull for this.” He continues. And it’s almost as though the lack of pleasure on his girlfriend’s behalf is what spurs her toward her climax. “But the moment I saw this ass…I knew you’d let me have it. Let me pound it out ‘til I bust so fucking hard my come spills out of your beautiful ass when I’m done with you.  _ Come for me bab _ y.”

  
  


_ And there it is. _

 

She screams so loud her voice is cut off by the pitch and her body goes completely rigid with orgasmic relief as he pounds the fuck out of her and comes just as hard as he said he would; her spasming walls and his own come pushing his dick back from whence it came. 

 

Both out of breath, they stay put until the other musters the strength to move.

Eventually, his cock slides out, both in protest to the cool air surrounding them and the snugness now lost as his come trickles out and down her thigh.

Bellamy’s resting his weight over her back and after they’ve caught their breaths, she looks towards the observation window, but Bellamy is otherwise occupied and has seemingly forgotten about the girl all together. She can feel the woman’s scowl through the window a she punches the wall.

_ Clarke smiles triumphantly. _

 

* * *

 

 

_ “Mmmhmmm. Fuck, that was great.”  _ She moans aloud in the silence of the night. Licking her lips, Clarke’s eyes slowly flutter open and it takes a second. But  _ only a second  _ because then she’s hit by a  _ god-damned, metaphorical-freight train.  _ The damning evidence surrounding her threatening to swallow her whole. Her skin’s an inferno, and the seat beneath her embarrassingly wet from her pants which are completely soaked through at her groin. 

  
_Then,_ _she remembers where she is, but the car isn’t moving._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Concerns? General questions? I don't bite:)

**Author's Note:**

> ????? Too much????


End file.
